The Yellow Door Life

I forgot to set one of my alarms last night.

When the other one went off this morning, I turned it off.

I woke up late for mass.

I rushed to get ready. 

It’s unseasonably warm outside, so I figured I didn’t need a coat. 

I left the house without one. 

It’s unseasonably warm outside, so the air conditioner was on in the church.

I was freezing. 

As we walked into the sanctuary, I realized the huge nativity scene that is normally set up in the front of the church wasn’t there.

It’s Christmas, where is baby Jesus? 

I sat down and thought how terribly this Christmas was already going. 

As I contemplated why everything, even Christmas, can’t seem to go right lately, I had a sudden memory flood my mind.

Not a Christmas memory, heck, not even a happy one. 

It was the memory of the morning I fell asleep at the wheel. 

…

In 2009, one of my friends was graduating from basic training at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, TX. 

He invited me to come, so I planned my first-ever, parent-free road trip with my roommate. 

I had just gotten a job at Papa Murphy’s and I didn’t want to take too much time off (and risk losing the job), so we planned a quick 4-day trip that included drivetime. 

We planned to leave at 3:00 in the morning and drive straight through. I hadn’t gotten much sleep, but it was enough. My roommate didn’t have her license at the time, so I was going to do all the driving, but we kept each other entertained and awake. 

Somewhere along the way, once we were in Texas, I got pulled over for speeding coming off an on-ramp. 

First speeding ticket ever. 

The thing I remember most is how the sheriff was wearing a cowboy hat and how odd I thought that was (at the time – now, not so much). 

We eventually got to San Antonio and tried to check into the “affordable” motel I had booked online. It ended up being terrifying and there was someone in the room they gave us keys to. Needless to say, I called my dad and begged him to help us get into a safer hotel. 

From here, we were able to enjoy the rest of the trip and see many awesome parts of San Antonio. 

Since we were there with a cadet, we got to enjoy some of the events they had planned for them including tickets to different games. We got to see the Spurs and Cavaliers play, and we got to go to a hockey game our last night there.

Now, remember, we only had 4-days including drivetime, so as soon as the hockey game was over, we planned to drive straight through home. This meant I was operating on the previous night’s sleep.  

The sun had already set by the time we said our goodbyes and headed out on the open road. I was good for a while, despite the fact that it was dark. Then, the drive became increasingly more difficult. I was tired. I almost hit an armadillo. I had never seen an armadillo before. Then my roommate was asleep, so I had no one to talk to. 

This cycle lasted all night. 

Eventually, I drove through Amarillo and was on the highway headed to Dumas. The sun had just risen, but that brought me no comfort without any sleep. I still had to get all the way home. 

I adjusted the radio to find a new station and suddenly this song by Keith Urban was playing. I had listened to this song on repeat during my freshman year of high school because my volleyball coach loved Keith Urban, and he was always singing his songs, or playing them in our van when he drove us to away games. I looked out my windshield, listening to Keith, reminiscing about volleyball, and then everything went black.

The next thing I remember was being tossed around in my seat and my eyes popping open. My Honda Civic was bouncing up and down in the grass median, careening toward oncoming traffic on the opposite side of the highway. I tried to get my bearings and slow down so I could navigate back to the correct side of the road. My roommate was awake now too and yelling at me, asking, “what the hell happened?”

“I fell asleep.”

I don’t actually have the memory of how I got back onto our side of the road, but I do remember the sheer terror pulsing through my blood. I remember staring into the front of that semi-truck as soon as I had woken up and thought my life was over.

We both tried to shake it off and stay awake. We only had another hour or so till Dumas. We were out of snacks and had no caffeine, so Dumas would be the spot to recharge. 

“Almost to Dumas.” I kept saying it to myself over and over. 

I never thought Dumas of all places would become a place of sanctuary, but it did. 

Eventually, the golden arches of the Dumas McDonalds came into view and we stopped. 

After eating, caffeinating, and resting for a while, I felt like I could handle the rest of the drive home. 

The ironic thing is, I ended up getting fired from Papa Murphy’s just a couple months later. 

I pushed myself to get back to a job, almost ending multiple lives, over a company that found me completely disposable. Not to mention the actual reason I got fired was insane, but that’s a story for another time. 

…

On my road trip this summer, the trek from Amarillo to Dumas was part of the itinerary and as I made my way up the highway I saw the stretch of road where I had fallen asleep. It was quiet that day, but the morning where I almost killed us, the highway was full of cars and trucks. 

I asked this question in July while driving on the highway, and I asked myself this morning sitting in Christmas mass, “Why didn’t I die that day?”

I should have. 

I was stupid. I made a terrible choice. It wasn’t the only time in my life I should have died either.

So, why am I still here?

I know for my roommates’ sake, we didn’t die that morning because she was eventually supposed to go on to meet her husband and have her two beautiful children. 

My story has had a different trajectory. 

Since that morning in Texas my circle has only gotten smaller. 

People dying. 

People leaving.

People changing. 

I didn’t die that day, or on the other numerous occasions where I should have, so I must still be here for a reason. 

Christmas hurts the most that I think it ever has this year. 

I just hope that the reason I’m still here, experiencing all this pain, will eventually be for some greater purpose. 

I guess I just have to keep reminding myself, “You’re almost to Dumas.” 

❤